


Star Trek: The Adopted

by MorganWhoWrites



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganWhoWrites/pseuds/MorganWhoWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira Raine was orphaned at birth, adopted and raised by a Vulcan couple, and now, as a young adult, appears to have it all: Starfleet Captain, an Intrepid-class Starship, and meets a distant relative, Major Kira Nerys, and while exploring the Gamma Quadrant, uncovers a secret that may be a threat to both the Gamma and Alpha quadrants and will also be a threat to Kira's family, and quite possibly to Kira herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leonard Nimoy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Leonard+Nimoy).



Star Trek: The Adopted

 

 

Chapter I

 

 

Captain’s personal log, stardate 48274.2; I’m sitting here in my ready room, collecting myself. We’re about two hours away from Starbase 1, where I will dock my beloved ship after just one brief year and then face an uncertain future. No, not a court martial; as far as I know, we haven’t done anything wrong, but rather my ship will be decommissioned in favor of those sparkly new Sovereign-class Starships or something like that. Either way, my career — with the Luna, only this year, 2371, but overall, spanned only four years, which would be a huge disappointment to my personal mentor, Hikaru Sulu— may well be over, and I’ll have to face my crew and tell them they had better start looking for new jobs, and if I’m right, I want this last testament to be what survives me after I fade into obscurity, and since I have no children, this will be the embodiment of my legacy, whatever that may be.

On the other hand, this might mean that my beloved science officer, Tora Nerys, who I’ve loved for most of my time aboard, and I might be able to really make this thing between us real. She always said she’d like to return to Bajor and settle down in Jalanda City and maybe start a family there. I will admit, if only to this log, that my love for Nerys is not based solely on her good looks or lovable personality (although that is the biggest reason), and I’m embarrassed to admit this, but she, as a Bajoran, can bring me closer to one of my three homeworlds, and connect me with a vital part of myself; heck, my mother’s genes run so strongly through me that my Bajoran nose ruffles are not as prominent as Nerys’s.

I was raised on Vulcan, adopted by the then-Vulcan under-Ambassador (basically, assistant Ambassador) Selek, and his wife, T’lanna. I love my parents, and my little sister, born to my parents three years later, T'Shai, is my own chief engineer, but sometimes, as a human-Bajoran, I don’t fit the lifestyle on Vulcan very well; I’m not nearly as adept as T'Shai at controlling my emotions, and Mom, through her early belief in V’tosh ka’tur during her young years, can control her emotions even better, but she lets herself have them, which is nice, because we have a more human mother-daughter relationship when we’re alone and my father and sister are away.

The intercom pinged, taking me away from my thoughts. “Captain to the bridge, please.” I turned back to the recording.

I’ll have to finish this later.

Smoothing out the creases in my uniform, I stepped onto the bridge. Immediately behind me was the tactics station, manned by Lieutenant Petra Chekov, an old classmate of mine, who had been rumored to be related to none other than Fleet Admiral Pavel Chekov, but according to our teacher, Sulu, Chekov never had children, therefore the relationship was impossible, however, she still searches for answers. Immediately to my right, exiting my ready room, is the engineering console. My sister rarely works from the bridge, so I was surprised to see her tapping away at her console.

“Captain, Rear Admiral Brent Hayes is hailing us, Sir,” my helmsman, San, told me.

“On screen please.

“Hello, Admiral. What can I do for you?”

“Captain Kira, welcome home,” Hayes said, “Admiral Jake Bradley and I will meet you and your crew at Starfleet HQ once you’ve completed docking. It is time to talk about your future, I guess.”

“Very well, Admiral. Anything else?”

“Not before you get planet-side.”

“Yes, Sir. Luna out.”

“Approaching Spacedock in 15 minutes,” said San.

“Slow to one-quarter impulse, Mr. San,” I said.

“Aye, Sir.” A few moments later, as the doors of Spacedock opened, a cool voice came over our intercom system.

“Welcome to Spacedock, USS Luna; we have control of your ship from here out. Thank you and have a pleasant day.”

After docking was complete, the crew and I entered a Type-6A shuttle that would take us down to the planet where we would meet with the brass and our future would be decided. I felt a lot of dread at the thought that my command might finally come to an end; I had come to really enjoy it, enjoy the Luna and my crew. As if sensing my thoughts, Tora gave my hand a squeeze, while my First Officer, Thorvald Boylan, cast me a look. A few moments later, the shuttle landed, and we disembarked to a sunny, warm California morning; me and most of my crew, accustomed as we were to being on board our Starship, had to shield our eyes against the gleaming sunlight.

“Ah, Captain Kira, welcome.”

“Good afternoon, Admiral Hayes,” I said.

“Admiral Bradley will see you and your senior crew in five minutes in the meeting room in Kirk Hall.”

“Understood.”

“You will all have officer’s apartments in Galileo Hall for the remainder of your stay in San Francisco if you so desire. Other accommodations can be easily made, should you wish to return to your families.”

“So this arrangement is long term?”

“I am not at liberty to give you any news just yet,” the Admiral said, “but consider this an extended shore leave if you like.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I turned to my crew. “Well, gentlemen, this looks like the end of an era. Just for now, I want to extend to you all a very personal thank you for following me so loyally for the year.” They all murmured assenting thank yous and other similar acknowledgments of our successes and failures. Emotions threatened to spill out, so I quickly invoked a breathing exercise Mom taught me to keep my head clear and emotions from clouding my judgment.

The crew entered Kirk Hall, so named for the legendary Captain and Admiral James T. Kirk. It had been a long time since I’d strolled these pristine halls, filled with the Starfleet bureaucracy and top brass, all immaculately dressed and very, very much in a hurry, talking in hushed tones to each other as they scurried around to their next meeting or whatever.

“Raine! Thorvald!” Tora cringed on my behalf at the otherwise cheerful hail; it was impolite to refer to a Bajoran by their given name in most all contexts except for the most intimate settings; this was neither, but she also recognized, as we all did, the owner of the voice, shuttling the rest of my crew towards our destination, giving me and my First Officer some time alone with his father, a prominent Admiral.

“Good morning, Dad,” Thorvald said.

“Admiral,” I addressed him, “you forget sir, that this is an inappropriate time to be calling me Raine.”

“Sorry, Kira,” he said, not sounding it, “I’m just glad to see my son and his Captain before they march off to the wolves!” Admiral Geoffrey Boylan, probably next in line for Fleet Admiral, well respected commander, politician and bureaucrat, and also, Starfleet’s biggest clown.

“Sir, do you know—?”

“No, Kira, I do not, and even if I did, I would be unable to tell you. Thorvald, your mother wants you to stop by and see her after your meeting with Admiral Bradley is finished. I think she has some projects to work with you on while you’re still here on Earth. Also, she just wants to see her youngest again, as do I, but I really need to get back to the Boston, but I’ll beam back down for dinner, all right? And Thorvald,” he leaned in closer, no longer Admiral Boylan, but Papa Boylan, “take care of yourself, okay? There’s always a spot on the Boston for you, and I’m sure your brothers would wrangle you a spot on the Absolution if this doesn’t pan out. I’ll see you at dinner. Love you, son.”

 

“Captain Kira Raine and crew, thank you for coming to this meeting,” Bradley said. “It is my sorry duty to report to you, as Vice Admiral, that the fleet is undergoing a reshuffling to make the fleet more efficient, and as you are one of our most junior crews, and because the USS Enterprise is going to soon be a Sovereign-class ship, it may replace you, or we may simply change your role within the fleet; nothing is yet decided, but we will be getting back to you in a few weeks. Please, see this as a time for shore leave, go home, reconnect with your families and loved ones. Starfleet has heard nothing but good about Captain Kira and the rest of you fine officers, and if we do not bring you back to to the USS Luna, we will place you again on a starship. Thank you. Any questions?”

I raised my hand. “Can I go see my ship for one last time?”

“She is in drydock, ready to be decommissioned if we decide that, but yes, I suppose it can’t hurt. I’ll leave a shuttle for you to return upon your leisure.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

“Anything else?” Bradley asked. No one responded. “Very well. Dismissed.”

“Captain, I’d very much like to come with you to see the ship one more time,” Tora said to me as I walked towards where the Admiral said he would have a shuttle waiting for us.

“I, too, think it would be…interesting to see,” T'Shai said, coming up behind us. As much as I tried to blend in with the Vulcan culture that I’d been raised in, T'Shai often expressed interest, if purely academic, in my emotions, being half-human, half-Bajoran, two races known for being openly emotional, but like our rumored ancestor, Spock, was never quite comfortable with emotions.

We entered the shuttle, and I sat down at the controls, and tapped out a takeoff sequence. The shuttle rose off of the pad and I turned her south by southeast and increased altitude and speed, enough to break the force of gravity. In about ten minutes, we broke Earth’s atmosphere, and I steered 34 degrees north, towards the drydock.

“So what do you think?” Tora asked, “what are they going to do to her?” We looked out the porthole, and there she was. I flew over the saucer section, and looked down at her insignia: USS Luna, NCC 90905, not lit by her running lights, and probably the last time I would ever lay eyes on it.

“I don’t know, but I refuse to let her be decommissioned in favor of the next best thing; she’s still my ship.” I turned the shuttle around, and keyed the entry sequence into the shuttlebay and steered the shuttle into the bay, and docked it, opening the rear entryway.

“You must be Captain Kira,” a man in Starfleet work clothes said, coming up to the shuttle, “I’m Don Danielson, I’m the manager of the work crew assigned to this ship; I was informed of your arrival, so I’ve got all but the most basic life-support systems turned off, and I can only give you an hour and a half until I need to shut down all systems in preparation of what the brass wants done to this ship.”

“Thank you, Mr. Danielson,” I said. I walked with my sister and best friend to the turbolift, which apparently was one of the systems still on, as the doors whooshed open as we approached.

“Deck one,” I said, and the lift doors shut. Upon exiting to the bridge, we noticed immediately how dark and quiet it was, with no computers running and beeping at us, nor any lights, except for the most basic work lights, and all the consoles were off, leading to a very deserted, deathly look. I felt emotions rising in me, despite my best attempts to keep them at bay.

“You two explore as you like; take your time. I’m going to my stateroom for a bit.” I left for the turbolift. “Deck three.”

There were already workers dismantling and opening work panels along the corridor as I headed to the Captain’s suite. I entered and requested a Bach organ work to play softly and went over to the replicator, which was still on, I was pleased to see.

“Coffee; black.” I requested of the machine, and a cup of hot coffee materialized on the receiving tray. I walked towards the windows, no longer looking out towards the stars, but the frames of drydock, spacewalking workers, already dismantling my ship. Whatever the Admiral said to me, it looked a lot like my ship was being decommissioned. I stood there, watching the action and sipping my coffee, knowing I wouldn’t likely be in these quarters ever again. The chimes of my doorbell rang presently.

“Come,” I said, if only by habit. Tora walked in, followed by T'Shai. “Music off,” I added.

“How are you doing?” Tora asked.

“I don’t know; will you miss this, Nerys?”

“Very much so, especially working for you, and the Luna was a beautiful ship.”

“Yeah, she was. My pride and joy. Want some coffee?” I handed my mug to Tora.

“Thanks, Raine. What if something good happens of this, though?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a damn fine Captain, Raine; maybe we won’t get the Luna back, but they’re sure to reassign all of us.”

“Then I wouldn’t be working with any of you.”

“No, but, like I’ve said before, that might allow you and I to go to Bajor, get married, start a family. You know I want to be your wife, I’ve made no secret of it, but I can’t do that when I’m your science officer too.”

“I know, I want to be your wife, too, but…I’ve come to trust you…on so many levels, but I also know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can trust your judgments as an officer.”

“I know,” Tora said, “I just…I hate seeing you like this; I just want to make the best of a bad situation.”

“That is logical,” T'Shai, my soft-spoken sister said. “There’s one thing I would like to do before we leave.”

“Okay.”

“Computer: Activate EMH,” T'Shai said.

“Please state the nature of your emergency,” the Emergency Medical Hologram said.

“Doctor,”

“Oh hello, Miss T'Shai,” The Doctor said, “how nice to see you.”

“I need to copy your file and data structure so I can take you with me to Vulcan and run some experiments on your core programming.”

“How nice,” the Doctor said, smiling. T'Shai merely raised her eyebrow. “Oh. I’m sorry, I thought you were expressing an emotion. So why are you taking me with you to Vulcan?”

“Doctor, the ship may be undergoing decommissioning; all signs point that way,” I said.

“Captain? Do you mean to say I would no longer be working for you?”

“Perhaps not,” T'Shai said.

“My sister has done great work with your programming matrix—”

“That she has—”

“Allowing you to be activated for nearly four times the amount of time allotted by your programming, as well as be able to appear almost anywhere on the ship without extra holographic devices on your person.”

“Indeed.”

“I will, hopefully, be able to calculate a matrix allowing you to be seen on Vulcan, and possibly Bajor, so my sister and I can make use of you, even if we are not aboard the Luna,” T'Shai explained, running her tricorder up and down the Doctor’s projected image. “There we go, that should be all I need. Computer: Move files EMH-X-A1543 and EMH-X-B1544 to tricorder TA9095-Echo, then deactivate secondary EMH programming.”

“Acknowledged,” the computer intoned.

“Our time is up,” T'Shai said as a slightly befuddled-looking Doctor disappeared, “may I suggest we make our way back to the Shuttlebay?”

 

“There’s a freighter bound for Deep Space Nine at 8:30 tonight,” Tora told me as we descended back down to earth; it was about five o’clock PST, “I’ve booked passage on it.” I nodded.

“Okay,” I said.

“Raine. I love you. Come see me before we’re reassigned? Please?”

“Of course I will,” I said, “I love you, Nerys.”

 

My comm badge beeped as T'Shai and I walked towards Galileo Hall.

“Admiral Bradley to Captain Kira,”

“Go ahead,” I said, tapping my badge.

“Captain, the brass and I have decided to give you a Danube-class runabout for your own personal use, especially as you might want to head back to Vulcan within a day or two. Bradley out.” It sounded like the Admiral might know something I didn’t but I shrugged to myself, and continued on.

“Welcome to Galileo Hall,” a voice said upon our entry, “please state your name, rank and service number for record-keeping purposes.”

“Kira Raine, Captain, number KR77905.”

“Voice verification complete. You have apartment 2025. Enjoy your stay, Captain Kira.”

 

My apartment had nice views of the golden gate bridge and Hikaru Sulu airfield, and T'Shai and I watched passenger and cargo shuttles and other forms of support craft land and take off from the field.

“Sister, would you care for some Vulcan brandy?” T'Shai asked.

“Thank you, that would be welcome,” I said. T'Shai nodded and walked over to the suite’s bar and pulled some out. She brought over two glasses after a moment. “Thank you.”

“What will you do?” T'Shai asked. I was beginning to tire of the question.

“I don’t know,” I said, “apart from perhaps taking Admiral Bradley’s suggestion and returning to Vulcan for a little while and…and…think about it all, I guess?” T'Shai nodded her approval. The door chimes rang.

“Come in,” I called.

“Hello, my daughters,” my mother, T'lanna said, framed in the doorway.

“Hello, mother,” T'Shai said.

“Mom.” I moved to meet her and gave her a hug; it was brief, and I wasn’t sure I had held her for long enough, but Mom doesn’t like hugs.

“How are you, T’Praal?”

T’Praal is my Vulcan confirmation name; Mom chose it for me about a month after I first arrived as a two year old to Vulcan and the Vulcan High Council finally decided to allow my adoption, a controversial move to say the least, not the least being that I was not born a Vulcan, but Mom always maintained that it was far more controversial to allow me to have a Vulcan name at all. I like it because it connects me with my parents culture, the only culture I’ve really known, but the other side of the same coin is that I love my Bajoran name for the same reason, and I started referring to myself, and asking others to refer to me as Kira when I first enlisted into Starfleet.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, “I just need time to think.”

“Will you be coming back to Vulcan?”

“Yes.”

“Your father will be returning from an envoy to Qo’noS very soon, but I have been unable to secure us passage back.”

“The Admiralty gave me a Runabout,” I said, “so we’ll be set in that regard.” T’lanna nodded.

“Very well.”

“Shall we leave tomorrow? I’m tired,” I said.

“It is logical,” Mom said, “I too feel rather weary.”

My mom and sister bade me good night after a quick meal to accompany the brandy we’d drunk, but I stayed up just a moment longer, watching the very last worker drones land at Sulu Airfield at the end of their shift.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Chapter II

I awoke early in the morning, and folded my uniform very carefully and put it in a small suitcase along with my needed possessions and latched it, ready, I suppose, for my trip back home. It felt really weird, being dressed in civilian clothes again. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to wear a simple top and skirt. I laughed softly to myself.  
I left before my mother or sister woke and headed out to the cafe that was part of Galileo Hall; it felt really nice to eat something, that for once, wasn’t replicated food. I sat watching gardeners move about, trimming hedges and such in a nearby park.

“Good morning, Captain Kira.”

“Hello, Commander Boylan.”

“Having some food? Sure beats replicated stuff.”

“Yeah, It does.”

“So, can I sit?”

“Yes, all right.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, as soon as my mother and sister wake up, we’ll probably make use of the runabout the brass gave me and head back for Vulcan, and I’ll stay there until we hear anything about the decision regarding the future of our ship and crew. I might spend some time working with my dad. You?”

“Working with my mother for a week or two, and then we’ll fly the Boston to Ceti Alpha 5 and drop her and some colleagues there and try and restore the orbital science station they had there in, what was it, 2238?” I nodded. “And then,” Boylan continued, “my dad said we might head over to DS9 and spend some time investigating.”

“Investigating what?”

“We’re not sure yet. Commander Sisko thinks something might be up. I’ll keep in touch. Have a nice time on Vulcan, Captain.”

“Thank you.” I watched him walk away, thinking. Thinking mostly that his mentioning DS9 made me remember that I should probably give Tora a call. My thoughts, however, were interrupted, by my comm badge beeping.

“T'Shai to Captain Kira.”

“Kira here, and for goodness sake, we’re not on board the ship; no need for formalities, sis!”

“As you wish; mother and I are awake and packed. Where are you?”

“I had breakfast at the cafe. You?”

“We had a replicated meal here, and we are ready to go.”

“Understood. Meet me at the launch point in ten minutes. Kira out.”

I got there first; as I suspected, the Runabout, under the name Falcon, was moored at Hikaru Sulu airfield; I walked up and met a young worker.

“Are you Captain Kira?” the man asked. 

“Yes I am,” I responded. 

“Very good; Admiral Bradley thinks that you deserved this ship to hold you over until you know what will happen with your command. This is an overview of her specs, including

the key for entry.”

“Thank you.”

I keyed the code the worker showed me, entered and turned on the systems, warming everything up, and starting all the necessary sequencing patterns.

“Coffee, black,” I said to the replicator, sitting down and drinking it and monitoring the process. After a few moments, my family stepped into the runabout. “So, are you ready to go home?”

T'Shai merely raised her eyebrow at me, but I’m pretty sure that I saw the ghost of a smile.

“All right,” I said, “computer: begin departure sequence one.”

The landing thrusters fired to get the runabout approximately 600 meters off the ground at which point, I transferred control to the impulse engines and slowly maneuvered the ship to a breakaway pattern, then fired the gravity thrusters that would propel us out into orbit.

“Computer: lay in a course for Vulcan.”

“Course laid out.”

“Engage. Maximum warp.”

As we headed towards our destination, I sat back in my chair, absentmindedly watching the stars rush by, and prepared to settle in for a long journey home. I liked the Danube class ships; small, versatile and very up to going out exploring, but it just wasn’t the same as having a starship to command; heck, at this point, like Lieutenant San, I would just love to pilot a starship again.

“Are you thinking about the ship, sister?”

“I am.”

“You miss it.”

“Yes.”

“This is an emotional reaction?”

“Mm-hm. I’m not as good at burying it as you and Mom are.”

“Perhaps, but that is not to say I will not miss it either.”

“Will you stay with me, T'Shai, if we’re reassigned? I like having my sister with me.”

She raised her eyebrow again. “It is illogical that we would have any power to influence the decision of the Admirals if we were to be broken up; the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.”

“I suppose it is, yes.”

“I will always be your family.” I reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. If Mom is uncomfortable with my need for physical shows of affection for my loved ones, T'Shai is even more disliking of it, and Dad outright refuses in most cases. When I was fifteen, and having a hard time with Dad’s refusal to hug me, Mom finally took me into their bedroom, and showed me a painting of when I was an infant, gently cradled in his arms, his usually stern countenance soft, warm and peaceful.

“He refused to be photographed,” Mom said at the time showing a small amount of amusement, “you know your father is a devoted follower of Surak’s teaching, T’Praal, but he is also devoted to you. You are our flesh and blood.”

“No I’m not,” I had said in my teenager’s obstinence, “I’m adopted.”

“But still a valued member of our family.”

“Then why don’t you say you love me?!”

“It is not in my nature as a Vulcan; I have been taught all my life to show my devotion to you and to T'Shai in ways you may never fully understand, but I assure you I most definitely do love you, your father loves you, and if it is your preference I use those specific terms, even if they are not in my nature, because I want you to be able to see that all I’ve said is true.”

I looked back at my mother at this point in my musings and stole a quick glance at her, typing something on her console, and felt my heart swell. I was not a good Vulcan, and many of my parents’ friends often disapproved of my adoption, and I know I disappointed my parents on several occasions; I could not physically quell my emotions; no matter how hard I tried, they always surfaced, and yet, to this day, I’m still trying to figure that out, and where I wasn’t able to follow the teachings of Surak, I found myself opposed to some of the principles of his writings and teachings, yet I longed to thrive in the Vulcan culture, and above all else, to make my parents proud, and through all of those difficulties, Mom was there, always silently, solidly there, and if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

Finally, after an age, we were near the planet. The computer said we were within the outer sphere of Vulcan space.

“Dropping to impulse,” I said in way of acknowledgment. “Bringing us to a close orbit.”

“Opening channel to Vulcan High Council,” T'Shai said, somewhat sleepily, for she had been napping for the last bit of our journey.

“This is Vulcan High command,” a member of the council stated.

“This is the Federation ship Falcon, Captain T’Praal requesting permission to land on the surface.”

“Welcome home, T’Praal; your father will be pleased, he just got back from Qo’noS just yesterday. Permission granted. Live long and Prosper.”

“Thank you,” I responded, “live long and prosper.

“Computer: set course for the ShiKahr landing zone.”

“Acknowledged,” the computer intoned.

“Transfer control to manual….all right, let’s land and go see father.”

I raised the atmospheric shields to protect us reentering the Vulcan atmosphere as thin as it was and steered the ship over the harsh, desert landscape of my home planet, keeping the course steady for the capital city where my family lived. I smiled when I could see the tall buildings in the distance and brought us down in altitude as we closed in on the landing zone.

“Captain T’Praal, you have been offered a landing spot by the Vulcan High Command building,” a minister informed me.

“My thanks,” I replied. Being the Ambassador’s daughter has its privileges. I slowed the runabout to a near stop and brought us in, landing right beside a ship I recognized as my father’s Ambassador’s Yacht. I powered down the runabout and opened the doors. Not entirely to my surprise, we were met by Chu’lak, one of the top Vulcan Ministers and also very high on the Vulcan High Council. It was rumored that he had eyed Mom as a potential mate on his second Pon Farr, but had chosen his current wife, V’lara instead, sparing Mom and allowing her to mate with Dad without the traditional fight that would ensue if Mom had to reject him.

“Welcome home, family of Selek, he is awaiting you all anxiously. Please follow me,” Chu’lak said. We did follow him, T'Shai and Mom with a stately grace and I, trying hard to not appear too excited.

After I grew a little older, even if the human in me craved my father’s physical shows of affection towards me, I began to see the ways in which he did show affection to me in his own way that did not break the rules of logic and the teachings of Surak he so cherished, and we formed a strong bond once I was able to see this fact. My older cousin, Sevok, met us at the door to Dad’s office; he worked with him, the son of my late uncle.

“Greetings, family; Uncle is waiting for you. Perhaps I will see you at dinner?”

Sevok, like my mother, is a follower of V’tosh Ka’tur and tends to be a bit more open with his emotions, and along with a girl friend, T’Hana, one of my closest friends growing up; I was never a popular child in school, due to my inability to master my emotions, even though my understanding of logic, science and mathematics is generally on par with my peers. We told Sevok we were looking forward to dinner with him, and he nodded, raised his hand in greeting, and as he was walking away, turned around and made a goofy face at me, daring me to laugh. Mom raised her eyebrow at me and rang Dad’s office doorbell. It opened.

My father is very regal; he is about six feet tall with a head of salt and pepper hair, noble features, and generally resplendent in his Ambassador’s robes. He works as the Ambassador to Vulcan both to the Federation and also to the Klingon Empire, which was his primary duties as an apprentice Ambassador and again as under-Ambassador, and his work with the Klingons became a passion, and even as he eventually earned the Ambassadorship for the Federation, never stopped working with the Klingons either, to mine and my mother’s bafflement. T'Shai, however, seems to have been bitten by Dad’s love of the Klingon species, for there is a certain Klingon in the service of the Federation, Goloth, a classmate of hers from Starfleet Academy, who, when we had a sister talk about sex, sexuality and Pon Farr together, she admitted to cherishing a great crush for. Goloth, according to my research, was an uncommonly gentle (I should note, gentle only by Klingon standards, not human or Vulcan) member of the House of G’Morag, who served aboard the USS Absolution as their engineer.

Mom had walked up to Dad, breaking me out of my reverie, and my parents entwined their fingers together in the shape of the Vulcan blessing in a show of affection, tracing each others’ hands, until Dad gently squeezed Mom’s hand. Neither one showed any emotion on their faces, but their eyes never left each other, and to me it seemed to be a form of communication all its own. According to Mom, my grandparents had been very good friends, and so, when each couple had a single child of opposing sexes, decided to telepathically bond them, essentially arranging the marriage that was bound on Dad’s second Pon Farr, but was nevertheless, according to Mom, the closest two Vulcans had come to marrying for love. Dad then touched his index and middle fingers to T'Shai’s index and middle fingers of her opposite hand, and they held their fingers together for a few seconds. When he got to me, instead of touching my hand, he put his whole hand against my cheek, and I held my hand over his. It was our compromise for my human need to feel his touch. So basically I had compromises with all my family — I hugged my mother, albeit too briefly for my taste, squeezed T'Shai’s hand, and had Dad touch my cheek like he’s doing now. It’s not always enough, and I’ve never kissed any of my family, although my human roommate at the Academy told me stories of growing up with her parents’ open displays of affection, and I was so jealous of her at the time, and wanted that so badly for myself, but now I see that at least I have a way to show my affection for my family. It’s enough.

“T’Lanna, will you please take the children home and begin dinner? I need to finish up a report with Ambassador Krug. I will be home in a moment.”

“Of course, Selek. Come along, girls.”

Leaving Dad’s office and walking back through the city from the building of the Vulcan High Command brought back a lot of memories for me, running around these streets, playing openly with my fellow Vulcan children before we enrolled in school and started learning the principles of logic and Surak’s teachings, and began the teachings of repressing our emotions, the open market where I would run errands with Mom, and T’Pol Street, where we lived; T’Pol was one of the first Vulcans to ever serve in Starfleet. It was definitely an upper-class street, and my family was definitely upper-class.

“T’Praal? Is that you?”

“T’Hana?”

“Welcome home,” my childhood best friend said.

“It’s nice to be back,” I replied.

“Will you be around for long?”

“I don’t know. My place in Starfleet is being…questioned, I suppose.”

“I see. Would you be interested in hiking Mount Selavis with Sevok and I tomorrow? We’re making a trip to the shrine atop the mountain.”

“For fun?”

“Of course not. Sevok has expressed interest in mating with me during his next Pon Farr.”

“Neither of you have already been mated?” Mom asked curiously.

“No,” T’Hana said. “The man my parents arranged me to bond with died before his first Pon Farr, and neither of my parents assigned me to be with anyone else. I understand that Sevok’s parents never bonded him to anyone as a child.” I studied my friend for a while.

“I would very much enjoy joining you both,” I replied.

“We will meet you in the square at 6:30 tomorrow,” T’Hana replied. “Live long and prosper, T’Praal.”

We walked in silence back to our house, me chewing on the fact that my cousin and friend were to be married. My parents, knowing that I was not born in the culture reasoned that I would not be so keen to have a marriage arranged by them, and when I got to my teens, started having feelings for other women, a concept, even in the 24th century, quite alien to my parents, and my sister, always with her head buried in some something or other, trying to figure out how it worked, never showed much interest in matters as irrelevant as to whom she would spend the rest of her life, and my parents, always supportive of our drives to further our intellect, just shrugged and overlooked arranging a marriage for T'Shai too. Once we were back home, the three of us set about preparing dinner.

“The Vulcan diplomatic envoy will spend three weeks on Earth preparing for the next Accord Conference,” Dad said a couple hours later over dinner, “perhaps you should be there, children, so that you will be in a good place to hear about your careers.”

“When is this conference, Father?” I asked.

“In a week or two weeks, depending on the Federation’s organizational staff,” he replied.

“I see.”

“I do not understand the Federation’s logic,” T'Shai said, “I’ve studied the new Sovereign class starships, and while they are a marvel, they do not necessarily offer something that the Intrepid did not.”

“The Federation however, I think we all agree, has never concerned itself with logic,” Dad replied.

“Yes, but all the same, we need a career, and sister was a good commander. She does well aboard a ship. Without it, she is…sad.”

“Thank you, T'Shai,” I said, “but let’s not worry about Starfleet now. We’re back, we’re together with mother and father, and I for one figure we should just enjoy our time on Vulcan, until we’re called back to serve, whatever that may be.”

“That is logical,” Dad said.

After dinner, Mom and Dad retired to the living room to read and finish working, in Dad’s case, T'Shai removed to her room to play around with the EMH programming and I went to my room to call Tora.

“Hi,” she said sleepily over the other end.

“Is this a bad time?” I asked.

“Never for you,” she replied smiling. “I wish you were here. I visited Vedek Bareil’s arboretum on Bajor; it is so beautiful, so romantic, and the Vedek himself…”

“He’s one of the main spiritual figures on Bajor?”

“That’s right, and one of the most popular figures to become Kai.”

“Fascinating,” I said.

“My Vulcan,” Tora said laughing a bit. I smiled.

“I will have to see it sometime,” I said.

“Yes you will. You know, I’ve been to DS9 a couple times since coming back here, and something seems to be up. The USS Boston and Admiral Boylan seem to be coming and going with some regularity.”

“Any idea why?”

“No.”

“Have you seen Commander—I mean, Thorvald?”

“No, but every time I’ve been around the station when the Boston had been docked there, I get shuttled away by Odo, their security chief. It’s all very secretive, whatever it is, but the station itself is very intriguing, it’s almost evenly split between the Federation and Bajoran forces. Raine, you should put in to be transferred here should we not get the Luna back; I did, and I’ve learned a lot, such as the fact that I’m not very popular here.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents were some of the richest people on Bajor without being a Vedek or other prominent figure, and they moved to Starbase 117 quite illegally, because Bajor is not part of the Federation, when I was very young, to avoid the occupation. A Starfleet engineer stationed on the base took pity on my parents and helped them get asylum, which allowed me to go to Starfleet Academy, and to most of the Bajorans here, that makes me the daughter of traitors, because I never fought the Cardassians with them.”

“I’m sorry Nerys,” I said, “I wish the naysayers could see you in action. A traitor you are not, I assure you.”

“Thank you, Raine. I just feel a bit sad; there’s so much I don’t know about Bajor; I thought I was a Bajoran, but I guess not.”

“That’s illogical,” I said, “you are born to two Bajoran parents, therefore you are fully Bajoran. If other Bajorans don’t accept you on an emotional premise, there is nothing you can do about it, and their reaction does not change the facts.”

“My Vulcan,” Tora said again, sounding somehow even sadder. “I have to go to bed. Call me again in a few days, and put in a request with Bradley about DS9, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, Nerys.”

The next morning, T'Shai did not want to join me, T’Hana and Sevok in our hike to the shrine on Mount Selavis; she was too busy playing with the EMH program. She gotten the hologram to show in her bedroom, and even respond to a few basic commands, but the EMH as yet was not aware of its surroundings or the people around. I shrugged, left her alone, had a quick breakfast with Mom and then left to meet my friends at the square. I use friends loosely of course, the concept of friendship, for the most part, is human, and not Vulcan, but I’ve noticed that most Vulcans, even if they do not call it such, develop bonds with other Vulcans, but the emotion is not there. I greeted Sevok and T’Hana with a salute, and we walked to the base of the mountain.

From the top of the mountain was the most superb view of the city you could ask for, and as my cousin and best friend prayed to the shrine about their plan to mate and become husband and wife, I gazed out at the city. I liked the silence. The prayers were silent, there were no others out this early in the morning — even though it really wasn’t that early; it was 10:30 — and only the wind made any sound. I realized that I should make the hike more often when I was home on Vulcan, and not out among the stars.

“Excuse me,” the three of us turned in alarm at the voice; we hadn’t heard anyone approach, and there was Dad, “I would like to speak with T’Praal alone please.”

“Of course, Uncle. Come, T’Hana.”

“But…the Gods…” she objected.

“They will smile upon our union, it is only logical,” Sevok replied, and unless I imagined it, T’Hana smiled.

“How are you, father?” I asked as Sevok and T’Hana descended down the trail.

“I may have to leave for the Accord Conference sooner than later,” Dad said, “Ambassador Spock himself will be a part of the conference, and we lesser Ambassadors must make sure everything is ready for a dignitary of his stature, and I wanted to make sure you were ready for…whatever is next.” 

“I appreciate your concern, father, but I do not know what is next.”

“Will you continue within the Starfleet organization?”

“I would like to,” I said, “I’ve worked hard for my Captain-ship, father, I would like to make sure that is put to good use.”

“Yes, of course.”

“But if that is not an option, could I ever work for you, father?”

“It is a very different style, T’Praal; I do not know if you would fit in the life of a diplomat.”

“Perhaps not,” I agreed.

“That is not to say I would not find your presence an honor, but I agree with you; you have worked extremely hard for everything that has happened to you.”

“Thank you, father.”

“T’Praal, I would like you to know…I am very proud of you…I am proud to be your father. You have honored me.”

I don’t know if Mom’s best breathing exercises could stop the sobs building in my throat, but I gave it my best shot.

“Thank you, father,” I said again. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow, perhaps the day after.” I nodded.

“T’Lanna to Ambassador Selek,” my mother’s voice came over my father’s intercom.

“Selek here.”

“Can you see that T’Praal gets home as soon as you can? There is a Starfleet Admiral on the comm to speak with her.”

“We are on our way. Selek out.”

“Greetings, Admiral Bradley,” I said, hastily wiping my eyes; I may have managed to control my sobs upon learning that Dad was proud of me, but my tears had still come thick and fast. I think my mother smiled when she saw my puffy, red eyes. God, I love my parents.

“Good morning, Captain Kira — at least, I think it’s morning on Vulcan?”

“It is, Sir; go ahead.”

“Captain Kira, we have decided the course for you and your crew. Please arrive at Starbase 1 at 16 hundred hours tomorrow and assemble your crew. You will report to DS9 in three days to meet with Admiral Boylan; Commander Boylan and Commander Tora will meet you at the station for further briefing. Full command and the starship USS Luna have been returned to you.”


	3. Chapter 3

  
Chapter 3

We were a bit underhanded with both Boylan and Tora waiting for us on DS9, but I had never been happier aboard my ship, addressing my crew and barking orders as though it was the greatest thing. Admiral Bradley and I had spoken one-on-one briefly after T'Shai and I had arrived in San Francisco from Vulcan; I was to keep the Falcon; she would be my Captain’s Yacht if I so desired, and further info would be provided to me and the crew as we warped to DS9.

“All right everybody, welcome back! Let’s get out there! Lt. San, drop the moorings, one-quarter impulse, and let’s let our girl stretch her legs.”

“Aye, sir!” San responded, his emotional algorithms picking up on my excitement and returning it.

“Lt. Chekov, report?”

“Security and tactical systems in full working order, Captain,” Chekov reported back.

“Very good. Bridge to engineering, how are you settling in, sis?”

“We are on board ship,” T'Shai chided me back, “please refer to me as Lt.-Commander T'Shai from now on.”

“Okay, okay,” I said laughing, “now how are things?”

“Everything’s fully operational, Captain.”

“Your modifications to the EMH?”

“I believe they will be fully integrated by now, Sir.”

“Thank you, Lt.-Commander. Activate him and send him up to the bridge, please? I want him manning the science station until we get to DS9 and have Commander Tora back on board.”

“Understood.”

“Thanks. Bridge out.”

“We’ve cleared the station, Captain,” San reported. I smiled at earth retreating in our viewscreen; it just felt so right to be back on my ship.

“Very good, Lt., set a course for Deep Space Nine.”

“Course set, Captain.”

“Engage. Maximum warp!”

“Aye, Sir.” The Luna’s warp nacelles angled for warp speed, warmed up, and with a whoosh, we entered warp space.

“Captain, subspace message from Starfleet.”

“Very good, Mr. San, route it to the briefing room, and then open a ship-wide comm.”

“Done, Sir.”

“Attention, crew of the USS Luna: This is Captain Kira speaking; welcome back! We are heading for DS9 at the request of Admiral Bradley. I’m very happy that you all could come back, and I hope we shall prove to be as united and strong a crew as you all demonstrated to me this past year before we disbanded to face an uncertain future; now we are back, and once again, rely on each other. We have had a few weeks of shore leave; let us not become complacent. Now, all senior staff to the briefing room, and once again, thank you and welcome back on board. Kira out.” 

I walked into the briefing room, followed by my shorthand staff of San, Chekov, T'Shai and the Doctor (the EMH). I walked over to a control panel and hit some buttons, and the Admiral’s face was displayed.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Sir,” I said.

“Not at all, Kira, you needed time to gather your crew.”

“And now I have.”

“Very good. So, we have assigned you to act as wingman for the USS Boston as it and Admiral Boylan investigate a new threat to our burgeoning Federation-Bajor relationship. We have reports of a new Cardassian forced labor camp on Vanden Prime.”

“According to Commander Tora, there were lots of Cardassian labor camps, especially on Bajor itself; it was the hallmark of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor.”

“Astute, Captain, but two things about this camp stand out: First, as Commander Tora noticed, the Cardassians did have a lot of labor camps on Bajor during the occupation; however, the occupation has been over for a couple years now, and there is no more Cardassian presence on Bajor itself. Instead, this camp is set up on a planet that is located in the Gamma Quadrant, has always been a part of the Cardassian Empire, and the only thing linking it to Bajor is that Bajoran citizens are the majority of the ones imprisoned on this camp, although there are a few Ferengi, Vulcans and humans as well.

“But you will agree, I think, that the second point is the most illuminating: There is some evidence that the Romulans are involved, the camp is a Jag-salt mine, and most importantly, it is not recorded as an official Cardassian labor camp; our Commander Sisko helped us find that out with his contacts; if we’re correct, this is a renegade operation. Now, your primary objective is to escort the Boston and Admiral Boylan as he goes to investigate. You will be able to go over this in more detail once you meet with the Admiral on DS9. Any questions?”

“…No, Sir.”

“Very well. Bradley out.”

I sat down at the head of the table and looked at my crew, who all stared stonily back, seeming as overwhelmed as I felt; even T'Shai looked like there was a lot for her to figure out.

“So what do you think?” I said at last.

“We need a lot more information than that to go on,” Chekov said.

“I agree,” I said, “Lt. Chekov, see what you can dig up on the Romulans and their involvement with this, Doctor, I want a report on Jag-salt. What exactly is it?”

“Y—y—y—yes, Sirrrrrrr” the EMH responded in a hiccupy, buzzy voice.

“I guess there are a couple glitches I need to solve,” T'Shai said, mostly to herself.

“Okay everyone, we have —” I tapped on a data pad, “about three hours until we arrive at DS9. Let’s work with efficiency so we’re prepared by the time we dock. Dismissed.”

 

“This is Captain Kira of the Federation Starship USS Luna to Deep Space 9 requesting permission to dock.”

A young woman with short red hair came on the viewscreen, looking baffled. “This is DS9, I’m…uh…did you say Kira?”

“Yes.”

“And…you’re Bajoran? Where’s your earring?”

“I don’t wear jewelry whilst on duty,” I replied, feeling confused. “Can we dock or not?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, I’m…well, I’m Major Kira, and…uh…you may dock, USS Luna, pylon three.”

“Thank you. Luna out.” I exhaled noisily.

“She looks so much like you,” Chekov said, frowning.

“Agreed,” I said, “it doesn’t make sense.”

 

“I didn’t know you had a twin,” Lieutenant Jadzia Dax joked to Major Kira Nerys on the station.

“I don’t,” Kira replied a bit defensively, “and I don’t have any sisters or anything like that.”

“She looks just like you, Major,” Commander Sisko said.

“Yes, sir, I noticed,” Kira replied. 

“Perhaps you should go meet her,” Sisko suggested.

“No, have Odo meet them. With your permission, Sir, I need to visit my quarters.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Look at my family tree, or what I can reconstruct of it.”

“Understood, Major. I’ll join the Constable. Let me know what you find.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

 

“I’m Commander Benjamin Sisko, welcome to Deep Space Nine.”

“Captain Kira Raine, nice to meet you, Commander.”

“Likewise, Captain. So you’re Bajoran? There is no record of you on this station?” Against my will, I liked Sisko; he was warm, friendly and fatherly.

“I’m half-Bajoran, actually,” I said, “my father was from Bajor, my mother was from Earth and worked as a surgeon with the Allied Maine Medical Mission, a faith-based medical mission from Maine that worked independently from the Federation, and my parents were both killed in the occupation, and I was adopted by the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth and the Klingon Empire and raised by him and his wife on Vulcan.”

“On Vulcan. That sounds very interesting,” Sisko replied, “and I hope that maybe one day I can hear that story in full. Now, I do believe we have two of your crew as long-term guests, and Admiral Boylan asked to see you the moment you docked. This way. Also, this is Odo, my chief of security. Constable, this is Captain Kira, of the Starship Luna.”

“Kira, eh?” Odo said in a slow, gravelly voice, “we have a Kira on this station as well, she is a personal…acquaintance of mine, and you do resemble her a bit.”

“So I’ve heard,” I replied.

“Commander, I need to go to my office,” Odo said. Sisko nodded, and Odo scurried away.

“Now, Captain, let me show you where the Admiral’s quarters are….”

“No need, Commander Sisko, I’ll show her.”

“Very well, Commander Tora, let me know when you all have met.”

“Thank you, sir.” Tora said. She turned to me as soon as Sisko’s back was around a bend; I could tell she wanted to hug me, but because we were both in uniform, restrained herself. “I’m so glad to see you!” she said instead.

“I am very glad to see you, too, Commander,” I said. “Will you take me to Admiral Boylan and bring me up to speed?”

“Okay. Well, I’m sure Admiral Bradley filled you in on the basics, and we don’t know much more than that, but Admiral and Commander Boylan have been going through the wormhole every 13 hours for the past three days to keep surveillance on Vanden Prime, and they haven’t seen any ship activity in the region, beyond some regular traffic to and from Vanden itself, but the camp is located in the northern hemisphere of the planet, almost at the pole.”

“What do you know about Jag-salt? I tried to get the EMH to research it for me, with T'Shai’s superb alterations to his programming, unfortunately there are a couple glitches in her re-programming.”

“All I know is that it literally is a seasoning that Cardassians use to liven up their food.”

“And it’s being mined by a forced labor camp?”

“I don’t know, Captain, the whole thing is extremely mysterious.”

“I’ll say.”

My crew then met with Admiral Boylan, who couldn’t tell me much more than Admiral Bradley or Tora had, but he did have a plan — because he and Thorvald had been gathering information for a week or so now had been able to find out more about the Romulan involvement, and had learned that they were involved with the Cardassians in research into how to make their cloaking devices on their ships stronger, and Admiral Boylan theorized that the Romulans were getting raw materials from the mine, and that the mine was not actually a Jag-salt mine, or if it was, the seasoning was only a side product of the mine, which explained the large number of prisoner-miners. We were to accompany the Boston on its run in a couple days to provide an extra pair of eyes, ears and arms, to provide air support while the Admiral himself beamed down to the surface.

“One more thing, Captain.”

“Sir?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you and your science officer are on quite, shall we say, friendly terms. Now unlike my rather stiff youngest son, I acknowledge that relationships happen in the course of Starfleet service, and many of us, myself included, meet our spouses that way, so I invite you to pursue your relationship, and I won’t stand in your way. However, you must remain able and professional in all your interactions as crew. Is that understood?”

“Clearly, Sir.”

“Excellent. Now, we have a long couple days ahead, so I strongly recommend you and Commander Tora get some rest.”  
We decided to do just that, and retired to our guest quarters, which just happened to have an excellent view of pylons two and three, my much smaller ship alongside the Admiral’s much larger one. Even with Admiral Boylan’s blessing, I still wasn’t sure about how I felt going forward with Tora, my wants colliding with my sense of duty, but I sat down on the couch, and allowed her to sit down beside me and snuggle into me, but tried to keep it at that, readying the excuse that T'Shai was in the next room, asleep. Just as we were getting comfy, the doorbell chimed.

“Come in,” I said. Framed in the doorway was the Bajoran woman who had responded to our docking request and had shown confusion about my name.

“This is probably…never mind, I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”

“No, come in; please. I’m Captain Kira…Raine, this is my science officer, Tora.”

“Raine…that’s not a Bajoran name?”

“No, my birth mother was human, from Earth.”

“I’m Major Kira Nerys, Bajoran liaison officer to Starfleet.”

“My name is also Nerys,” Tora said, “well my parents did say it was a popular girls name when I was born.”

“But I don’t understand,” Major Kira said, allowing herself to come a little closer to us, “how are you both Bajoran and yet in Starfleet? Not to mention high in the ranks. Captain and Commander? It doesn’t make any sense. Nor does your having a human mother; we haven’t had much contact with Earth residents before now.”

“My birth mother did not work for the Federation,” I said, “she was from an Earth ministry Allied Maine Medical Mission, they did some work during the occupation.”

“I heard about that group; a lot of them tried to help Bajoran citizens in the battle of mount Lyskard,” Major Kira said, “a lot of them died, after which a lot of support from Earth dried up.”

“Both my parents died in that battle,” I said.

“But you have a Bajoran family member?”

“Yes, my father.”

“And you’re alive?”

“Yes. According to my records, a man named Kira Taban helped a colleague of my mother’s smuggle me off the planet, and —”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Major Kira interrupted me, “my father helped smuggle you off Bajor?!”

“Yes, and I was adopted, once I got back to Earth, by a Vulcan assistant Ambassador, Selek and his wife, T’Lanna.”

“Okay, but what does my father have to do with this?”

“According to what I could get from Dad, Mr. Kira was my father’s cousin.”

Major Kira stared at us, completely baffled. Several times, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for strange little monosyllabic gasps, whether of outrage, amazement or something else, I could not make out.

“Would you like to sit?” Tora asked her.

“Well…what…what about you, then?”

“What about me?” Tora asked.

“You’re full-blooded Bajoran, I can tell, but then…how the hell are you in Starfleet? Bajor is not part of the Federation; running this station together is the first major interaction we’ve had with them, and if I may be blunt, our relationship is not on solid ground yet.”

“My parents were wealthy,” Tora said, “and when it became obvious what the occupation was going to look like for Bajor, they used some of their money to move away, and raised me on Starbase 117.”

Major Kira let out a slow breath, sitting down on the couch opposite the one Tora and I sat on.

“My word. Then neither of you…neither of you had to live through it? The occupation? You both lived happy lives, with healthy parents, totally ignorant of what we — your very own people — had to fight for while you grew up, and now, you’re both high ranking Federation lackeys. I doubt you even understand the significance of your mission.”

“That’s not fair,” Tora said, “my parents told me everything; they raised me as a Bajoran with everything they knew.”

“A poor substitute for living it.”

“Perhaps,” I said, “but all of this is irrelevant to our abilities to perform our duties.”

“Major, is there something wrong with the way the Captain and I were raised?” 

Major Kira deflated a little bit. “I suppose not, no, but…I just…there aren’t many Bajorans who have stories like your own. I particularly don’t understand why, if your father is my father’s cousin, as you allege, Captain, he didn’t insist you be raised on Bajor.”

“That is not logical,” I said.

“Logic,” Kira scoffed. “Logic. I stayed, I fought the Cardassians, I opposed every move they made on Bajor, I was part of the Bajoran Underground. Logic doesn’t even have a place in the discussions!”

“You haven’t even scratched the surface,” I said, giving the Major a wry smile.

“No, no I have not,” Major Kira said.

“Major, Commander Tora and I need to rest in preparation for tomorrow. I am sorry that we seem to have caused you so much distress, but please, neither one of us are in the mood to argue about childhoods, and my sister is trying to sleep in the next room. Unless you need us for anything else, we really need some…?”

“I…I…no, of course. I’ll leave you both. Good night.”

  
\+ + +

  
I awoke at 0700 hours the next morning, replicated myself my preferred black coffee, French roast, and eggs Benedict for breakfast. I brooded a bit on our meeting last night with Major Kira, whose childhood seemed to leave her emotions on a hairline trigger, and somehow, the manner in which Tora and I were raised had rubbed her the wrong way. It had upset Tora a great deal, and although I wasn’t as worked up, both between my knowledge of Vulcan culture, and between the idea that I had a vague idea where the Major was coming from, and since Admiral Boylan condoned our relationship, spent most of the night comforting her after Kira left our quarters. It had vaguely hurt, since it had been my dream as far back as I could remember to meet one of my Bajoran or Human families.

“Boylan to Captain Kira.”

“Kira here, Admiral, go ahead.”

“We leave for the wormhole at 0830. Have your crew ready.”

“Acknowledged.”

An hour and a half later, The Luna followed the Boston away from the station and towards the Bajoran wormhole, one of the first stable ones known to exist, allowing easy, quick passage from the Alpha Quadrant to the Gamma Quadrant. As the Boston approached the wormhole, it opened up in a burst of energy that was quite beautiful, and as the Luna slipped into the wormhole, it was an experience quite unlike any other I had encountered in my time as a captain. On the other end of the Wormhole, we were hailed by the Boston.

“On screen,” I said.

“Captain,” Boylan said, “once we arrive in the Vanden system, I will beam down to the planet with a small away team to study the mine. The USS Luna will be the Boston’s bodyguard whilst I’m on the surface. Understood?”

“Perfectly, sir.”

“Excellent. Now the co-ordinates should be bearing four-oh-four mark five-seven; the Vanden system is about three light years away from this side of the wormhole and I calculate it will take us about three hours at warp 8.”

“Acknowledged,” I said.

“Very good. See you at Vanden Prime, Captain. Boylan out.”

“Mr. San, lay in a course to follow the Boston at the heading the Admiral gave.”

“Aye sir, course laid in.”

“Engage.”

Three hours later, we dropped to impulse, continuing to follow the Boston, and as she went into orbit, I got my first look at the planet, and it looked rather desolate and largely desert terrain, reminding me somewhat of Vulcan.

“Bring us into synchronous orbit with the Boston, Mr. San,” said Commander Boylan.

“Belay that, Mr. San,” I said, “take us to 1412 mark 12, and get us into an outer orbit; there’s something here I don’t like, and I want a good view of the Boston.”

“With all due respect,” Boylan said, “that is my father we’re talking about. We need to be in transporter range if something should go wrong.”

“I am well aware of the risks, Commander,” I responded.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Chekov spoke up, “take a look at these readings.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, Sir; like a classic Romulan cloaking device, only about 300% stronger.”

“Interesting. Can you pinpoint a location?”

“Yes sir, I would say it is about 900 meters off the Boston’s starboard bow.”

“Red alert,” I said.

Although I never have said so, I love combat; the adrenaline rush seems to help me focus, and everything I ever learned at home on Vulcan seems to be most at my command whenever I’m in a tense, anticipatory battle. Sure enough, a moment later, the ship de-cloaked. I think it took us all a little bit by surprise. It appeared to be a Romulan bird of prey, at least the forward portion of the ship had the classic eagle shape, but the aft section looked vaguely Cardassian. Before I had time to admire it further, a laser beam, looking far more powerful than any phaser I’d ever seen, struck out and tore into the Boston’s Engineering hull.

“Evasive maneuvers!” I called.

“Transporter room, beam me over to the Boston!” Boylan called.

“Commander —”

“Captain, with all due respect, this isn’t the time to argue!” I nodded.

“Energize!”

The bird of prey fired again, tearing up more of the Boston’s hull. It was as if the larger ship hadn’t even had time to raise their shields, or maybe, I thought with a chill, the shields were useless against this new technology.

“Lieutenant Chekov, ready phasers.”

“Ready, Captain…that’s odd…”

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, the bird of prey just dropped its shields…I think they’re recharging the weapon.” 

“Fire torpedoes; find the weakest spot.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Luna to Boston….Luna to Boston! Respond!”

“Captain…this is Lt. Regis, Sir…we’ve taken heavy damage here. Hull breach imminent…I’m going to have to eject the saucer section….”

“What of Commander Boylan?”

“Unconscious, Captain, but alive.”

“And the Admiral?”

“We’ve lost most of our communication…I’m talking to you on —” the image blurred then cut off.

“Transporter room, can you lock on both Commander and Admiral Boylan?”

“Affirmative.”

“Do it. Energize! Engineering, report.”

“The Boston has massive hull damage,” T'Shai said, “they’ll have to eject the warp core if there is to be anything of any of us left.”

“Can we tractor the saucer section with us back to DS9?”

“It would be unwise, Captain, but I could modulate our tractor to accommodate.”

“Do it. Commander Tora, life signs on the Boston?”

“Less than one hundred, Captain,” Tora responded with a haunted look.

“Beam as many as we can over here, then activate the EMH and go to sickbay and help tend to the wounded.”

“Yes, Sir.”

At that moment, the bird of prey re-cloaked, not firing another shot.

“What are they doing?” I mused aloud. “Lieutenant Chekov, thoughts?”

“No, Sir; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That makes two of us. Mr. San, try hailing them.”

“Aye sir….they’re responding.”

“On screen.”

“Federation captain…good morning. I am Commodore Gul Dorvok, of the Kahlhardii Rebellion. I trust you liked our little show? Consider it a warning; a warning against the Federation and the Vulcans, for interfering with the glory of the Romulan Star Empire, to the Bajorans, for interfering with the Cardassian Empire, and to the Romulans and to the Cardassians themselves who have given up the glory of domination of both the Delta and the Gamma Quadrants. Go home to your Quadrant, and to your Federation, and tell them. Tell them the Kahlhardii is coming. We are stronger than the Romulans, stronger than the Cardassians, and stronger than the Dominion in our quest. You can not stop us. Go home and tell them the Kahlhardii is coming.”

  
\+ + +

  
T’Shai had to make several adjustments to the power supplies to various ship systems in order to tractor the Boston’s saucer section back to DS9 with us, and she could offer me no assurances that the saucer would make it through the wormhole safely, with its energy fluctuations, and a part of me didn’t even know why we were bothering to save the saucer at all; it was illogical; we had transported all surviving Boston crew over to our sickbay, but they had not had time to eject the warp core, and shortly after the bird of prey re-cloaked, we immediately pulled away to a safe distance and watched the engineering hull of the Boston explode. Nevertheless, I told T’Shai to transfer all non-essential power to the tractor beam; we would try at least, it was the least I could do for Admiral Boylan. 

“Mr. San, set a course for the wormhole, warp seven.”

“Aye, Sir.”*

The crew sat in silence as we warped to the wormhole. The port turbolift opened, and T’Shai moved over to her bridge console and began monitoring the tractor beam.

“Captain,” she said after a moment, “may I speak to you for a moment?”

“In my office,” I said nodding, and gesturing T’Shai to my ready room. “What is it?” I asked her a moment later.

“Captain, did anything strike you as odd about the Romulan ship?”

“Apart from the fact that it appeared to be Romulan and Cardassian in one, and apart from that extremely powerful laser? No, I can’t say as anything else jumped out at me, except perhaps for what Lt. Chekov said about the cloaking energy….Why?”

T’Shai put several data pads on my desk. “This is all the information I could grab while the commander of that ship was talking to you, and when it was recharging its weapons systems, but…”

“But something else is bothering you?”

“Yes,” T’Shai said, “and it’s illogical, not to mention a reaction that I think might have been an emotional one, although I have never been as good with emotions as you, Sir.”

“Spit it out,” I said.

“Captain, did Gul Dorvok seem…familiar to you, I guess?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it. “No.” T’Shai raised her eyebrow.

“The Gul is Vulcan, I would bet on it,” T’Shai said.

“Then why is he ranked by Cardassian ranks?”

“Or surrounded himself with the Romulans?”

I nodded. “There’s so much to learn here.”

“San to Captain Kira.”

“Kira here.”

“Captain, we’re about ten minutes from the wormhole.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 

“Commander, I’m reading elevated neutrino emissions from the wormhole,” Dax said back at DS9.

“On screen,” Sisko said. “My God….”

“Are they tractoring the saucer of the Boston?” Dr. Julian Bashir gasped.

“It would appear so, doctor,” Sisko replied.

“The Luna is hailing us, Commander.”/

“On screen.”

“Captain Kira, I’m very relieved to see you are all right.”

“Thank you Commander Sisko.”

“Report?”

“We need someplace to store the Boston’s saucer,” I said.

“I can do that,” Miles O’Brien said, “I can set up a containment field around one of our docking ports to keep it steady and then contact a Starfleet freighter to come remove it to the Utopia Planitia Fleetyard.”

“Do it,” Sisko said.

“Commander, I’ve also got 95 wounded from the Boston who need medical assistance on the station,” I said.

“95?!” Bashir yelped. “Well I had better get ready. Prepare to transport them directly to the infirmary.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said.

“Don’t mention it, just make sure I have your science officer. I may need another pair of hands.”

“Understood. Commander Tora and the Doctor will beam over with the patients?”

“You have an EMH? But surely he cannot exist beyond certain areas of your ship as specified by his programming?”

“He didn’t, until my sister got a hold of the files,” I said proudly.

“I’ll have to take her for drinks at Quark’s,” O’Brien said, “that’s no feat, what she’s accomplished.”

“I’m sure she’ll love to talk tinkering with you, Mr. O’Brien,” I said.

“Captain,” Commander Sisko said, “I would like to see you once you’ve docked.”

“Acknowledged. Luna out.”

We were met after docking by Odo, who wanted to escort me to ops, the station command center. He didn’t seem too keen on talking at first, but I was able to see that something was bothering him, but he refused to say what when I asked. We rode the turbolift to ops in silence.

“Good afternoon, Commander,” I said, stepping out, “I think you might be playing host to me and my crew for a little while longer.”

“Indeed. Step into my office, please.”

“You read my report, I trust?”

“Yes, of course; it is very fascinating. A rebellion involving Romulans and Cardassians not authorized by Cardassian Central Command, nor the Romulan Empire, or even the Dominion? Yes, that caught my eye, as well as the eye of most of the top dogs in Starfleet and Cardassia. I’ve been up to my eyes trying to explain what I don’t even know. The USS Absolution will be arriving at the station tomorrow, with at least three admirals, and we can expect delegations from Cardassia Prime and Romulus to arrive shortly thereafter. We’ve stepped into a hornet’s nest here, Captain. I sure hope you’re ready for this.”


End file.
